


Mama Told Me When I Was Young

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: During Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-27
Updated: 2007-03-27
Packaged: 2018-09-03 18:20:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8725303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: "Dean, if you're freaking stupid enough to use a song as the reason why we can't get together then I'm allowed to use it as the reason why we can."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title:** Mama Told Me When I Was Young  
**Pairing:** Sam/Dean  
**Disclaimer:** Sam and Dean aren’t mine, _Simple Man_ isn’t mine, and I was never a member of Lynyrd Skynyrd   
**Rating:** R  
**Summary:** _“Dean, if you’re freaking stupid enough to use a song as the reason why we can’t get together then I’m allowed to use it as the reason why we can.”_  
**Warnings:** Incest  
**Author's Note:** written for **shay_reynolds** ’s Supernatural fic-a-thon. My song was _Simple Man_ by Lynyrd Skynyrd [if you couldn’t tell by my disclaimer]  
  
  
  
Sam sighed and shifted on the bar stool, glancing over at Dean. Sam rolled his eyes when he saw Dean’s tongue shoved down some random girl’s throat and looked back at his beer, picking at the label. He fought to keep his eyes down, fought not to look back at Dean. He heard some girl squeal behind him and cringed, picking up his beer. Sam gulped down what he had left in the bottle and wiped his mouth, jumping when someone patted his back.  
  
“Hey Sammy, what’s going on?” Dean asked, voice way too cheerful, a grin on his face. “You done being all emo over here or do I gotta go back to Shelley?”  
  
Sam glared at Dean, tongue coming out to lick up the rest of the beer on his lips. “I’m surprised you even got her name,” he muttered, taking Dean’s beer out of his hands, drinking it down.  
  
Dean watched Sam in surprise, smiling. “Wow Sammy, who’d you steal those balls from?”  
  
Sam dropped the bottle and swatted at Dean, turning around in the barstool. “Go back to Sherry or whatever.”  
  
“Shelley,” Dean corrected, but he didn’t move. “Okay, so what did I do this time? Leave the toilet seat up in the motel room or something?”  
  
Sam rolled his eyes again and shook his head, reaching up to scratch at his cheek. “Why do you always have to make out with people?”  
  
Dean groaned and dropped his head forward onto the bar, hitting it a couple times. “Sammy, you seriously need to get over this whole jealousy thing. It’s a little too junior high for you.”  
  
“I’m not jealous,” Sam snapped, even though it was completely obvious he was. “I’m just annoyed. I don’t stop doing research and come out to bars just so I can watch you make out with some Sara chick.”  
  
“Shelley,” Dean corrected again, hitting his head against the bar again. “So why do you leave the motel room and come out to bars, Sammy? ‘Cause it’s obviously not for _you_ to hit on some girl.”  
  
Sam turned back around on the bar stool, looking around the bar. “I gotta take a leak,” he said suddenly, standing up quickly, pushing his way through the crowd.  
  
Dean lifted his head and watched Sam, taller than most of the crowd, push open the door to the grungy men’s room. He finished what was left in his beer bottle and spun around on the stool, standing up. He made it half-way before he felt arms wrap around his waist and he sighed, shaking his head.  
  
“Where you going, baby?” Shelley whispered in his ear, before nipping at his neck. “Don’t go after him, he looks like no fun.”  
  
Dean rolled his eyes, pushing Shelley off of him. “He’s a lot more fun than you would think.” He continued on through the crowd, finally making it to the bathroom. He pushed open the door and walked in, locking it behind him. “What the hell’s going on with you, Sam? You’ve been pissed off ever since we walked in the door.”  
  
Sam zipped up and walked over to the sink, turning on the tap. “You’ve been making out with every girl here since we walked in the door.” He quickly washed his hands and looked around, before wiping his hands off on his jeans.   
  
Dean crossed his arms and leaned against the door, studying Sam carefully. “Well, I can’t make out with _you_.”  
  
“Why not?” Sam grumbled, trying to get at the lock on the door, but Dean just moved to block it. “Dean, that’s annoying; get out of my way.” He stepped towards the door again but Dean didn’t budge. “Dean, move.”  
  
“You can move me yourself,” Dean said, cocking his head to the side. “We both know it.”  
  
Sam opened his mouth to speak and just shook his head, stepping backwards. “I can’t believe this, Dean. Would you move?”  
  
Dean straightened up, trying to make himself look as big and tough as possible, not even flinching when Sam slammed his hand against the door, right by his head.   
  
“God,” Sam breathed, leaning against the door, dropping his head. “Dean, please, let me go.”  
  
Dean looked up at Sam, shaking his head. “You know how I feel about you, Sammy, right?”  
  
Sam groaned and nodded, closing his eyes. “Yeah, I do. But why can’t we do anything about it?” He dropped his head down and pressed a kiss to Dean’s neck, moving his lips up to Dean’s jaw, almost making it to Dean’s lips before Dean jerked away, finally moving away from the door.   
  
“It’s wrong,” Dean said, looking up at Sam, even though he wanted to lean up and kiss the pout off Sam. “Come on, Sam, we could get arrested.”  
  
Sam shrugged. “As if that’s ever mattered before,” he pointed out, stepping away from the door. He began pacing back and forth, before finally leaning against the sink. “Dean, doing something wrong isn’t what is stopping you. You’re a horndog, you’d stick it anywhere. Why can’t we do this?”  
  
Dean sighed and leaned back against the door, reaching up to scratch at his head. “You know Lynyrd Skynyrd, right?”  
  
Sam’s jaw dropped and he stared at Dean in disbelief. “I swear, if the next thing out of your mouth is a goddamn Alabama incest joke, I’m going to fucking kill you.”  
  
“No, not that song,” Dean assured him. “Simple Man.”  
  
“What?” Sam asked softly, shaking his head. “Dean, are you _high_? Did Sharon give you a roofie or something?”  
  
“Shelley!” Dean yelled, pushing off the door. “Not that that’s the point here. Listen, I listened to that song once, like, listened to the lyrics, instead of just doing air guitar, like I usually do. And anyway…us, together, being like _that_ , nobody would want that.”  
  
Sam frowned and looked around the bathroom, trying not to kick Dean’s ass on the spot. “Dean, who’s nobody? In case you haven’t noticed, we hunt alone. We stay in motels alone. We drive alone. We eat alone. Who the hell are these people who wouldn’t want that?”  
  
“Mom!” Dean cried.  
  
Sam was about to say something before someone banged on the bathroom door.  
  
“Hey, open up!” the man yelled, knocking again. “I gotta take a leak!”  
  
“Use a goddamn tree!” Dean yelled, banging back. The knocking on the door stopped and Dean sighed, looking back over at Sam. “Mom wouldn’t want that, okay? She didn’t die so her sons could get their rocks off together.”  
  
“I hate you,” Sam muttered, pushing by Dean, unlocking the door. “You have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”  
  
“Sam, have you ever heard that song?” Dean asked, reaching up the relock the door. “ _Go find a woman and you’ll find love_. That’s what Mom would’ve wanted.”  
  
“You’re insane, Dean,” Sam snapped. “Fucking insane. It’s just a _song_ Seriously. Mom died when you were four and I was a _baby_! She never said anything like that to us. Neither did Dad. They don’t care!”  
  
“Well I do!” Dean shouted. “Okay? I am not going to fucking molest my little brother! Okay? I can’t do it. I-- I-- every time I think about it, I just, I think that Mom and Dad and hell, Grandma and Grandpa, they’re like, looking down on us, disgusted or something.”  
  
“Dean, you love me!” Sam pointed out. “You said it and I know you mean it. And I love you too and you know it. Come on, you really think Mom would disapprove of _us_ more than you fucking my science teacher, _your_ math teacher, our next door neighbour, almost every waitress we’ve ever had and that drunk chick in Pasadena? You don’t-- you’re crazy. Have you-- did you ever listen to that _entire_ song?”  
  
Dean frowned. “Well…no, not after the second verse. The air guitar kicked in again.”  
  
Sam groaned and unlocked the door, walking out of the bathroom. He stormed over to the jukebox and dug out some change, finding Simple Man on the list. He pressed A3 and looked back towards the bathroom as the opening chords filled the bar.   
  
Dean sighed and walked out of the bathroom, going over to Sam. “It’s not going to help.”  
  
“Dean, if you’re freaking stupid enough to use a song as the reason why we _can’t_ get together then I’m allowed to use it as the reason why we _can_ ,” Sam explained. “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s just a song. Now shut up and listen.”  
  
“ _Take your time, don’t live too fast, troubles will come and they will pass_ ,” Ronnie Van Zant sang, and Dean began bobbing his head to the music. “ _Go find a woman and you’ll find love, and don’t forget son, there’s someone up above_.”  
  
“Told you,” Dean murmured, but Sam just glared at him. The song continued on and Dean just stood there, waiting for Sam to tell him when to listen.  
  
“ _All I want for you my son, is to be satisfied_ ,” Ronnie continued on.  
  
Sam looked at Dean pointedly, lips pursed. “Well?”  
  
The guitar solo started and Dean just stared down at the floor, fingers twitching. “Sam, I just-- I don’t know.”  
  
“ _Boy, don’t you worry, you’ll find yourself. Follow your heart and nothing else_ ,” Ronnie sang, and Dean’s eyes lit up as he looked up to Sam. “ _And you can do this if you try. All I want for you my son, is to be satisfied_.”  
  
“Get it now?” Sam asked softly, moving closer to Dean, swallowing hard before he leaned down and nuzzled Dean’s cheek, pressing his lips there gently.   
  
“Thought it was just a song,” Dean murmured.  
  
“It is,” Sam agreed, “but you were stupid enough to think it mattered. So is this okay now?” He reached up, slipping his fingers under Dean’s shirt, burning into his hip. “God, please tell me that this is okay now.”  
  
“Sam, we’re in Louisiana,” Dean breathed, pressing his hips into Sam’s hands. “In a bar. People can see us.”  
  
“I love you,” Sam said, quickly pressing his lips to Dean’s, before Dean changed his mind. “Let’s get back to the motel room.”  
  
Dean smiled and walked away from Sam, going through the crowd to the exit.  
  
Sam grinned when he walked by Shelley, waggling his fingers. “Have fun, Shelby.”  
 


End file.
